


The Realm of the Stars

by moonofmorrigan



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Other, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-08-29 13:25:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8491414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonofmorrigan/pseuds/moonofmorrigan
Summary: This story is set in modern day, and King Thranduil, his elves and realm have sailed to the west because there was no longer any place for them among men, and the realm they now live in is kind of an AU concept to concepts regarding what Tolkien made for his elves to pass on to after the Grey Havens. They live among but separate from the world of men. Rarely seen, and thought to be legends or myths by most. Thranduil set up a new realm and his son, Legolas, who had sailed earlier has come to live with his father once more. The king’s once vast and beautiful forest in the west is now reduced to a heavily wooded park that is said to be haunted by the humans. He hides his kingdom with illusion, and the only visible thing to mankind is what a human will see as the ruins of an entrance to a garden that leads to a decrepit tower, unless he deems it otherwise. As a result, humans have vandalized the parts they see, paranormal/thrill seekers go there to get scared off, and it has become a favorite make out spot for those who live the area. Once a woman named Cassandra comes to the visible portions of his realm the wheels are set in motion for a story within a story that may change the future for them both.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This story used to be called "The Kingdom In My Woods". I changed it for reasons that I will only explain privately.
> 
> This is, despite how some of the scenes may play out, not a romance story between the OC (except the scenes with Thranduil's wife of course) and Thranduil or Legolas. This is a story about finding a soul mate - again, not romantically - someone who can understand you on a level no other can, to the point that they know what you're going to say before you say it, or what you feel just by the air you breathe with them.
> 
> Warnings are basically this story will contain a lot of cussing, original characters and is not book based. Parts of it is not movie based either. Mostly, as to how I will write the death of Thranduil’s wife. There will be some lesbian themed talk, and well, a major jerk of a boyfriend for the OC in this story. Also, I took liberties with Thranduil’s (and the elves in general) magical abilities, and things of that nature, making them sort of a cross breed of Tolkien elves and Old Faith elves. Yeeeeah, I have either a mad genius mind, or the unsolvable workings of an idiot. So, it doesn't pay to ask questions. 
> 
> Almost nothing in this story follows the books, except for a few things based on appendixes by Tolkien, or anything else, besides what is known in the movies. I’ve created my own thing here. Forgive me please for my liberties, and my sad excuse for telling the king’s story in this manner.

**_ The Realm of the Stars  _ **

_(formerly called "The Kingdom In My Woods")_

**_By MoonofMorrigan_ **

****

**_CHAPTER ONE_ **

 

THEY were there again. The children of men. There was a time when he called them friend. There was a time when they were allies. How they have both progressed and regressed! It seemed with the more technology they created, the more industrialized they become, the less they knew; the less they cared about not only his beautiful home, but each other. Men always did fight among themselves, but it was only just a short while ago that they had taken their warfare to a new level, and created a weapon so powerful that it could decimate the earth itself. They had forgotten to do the simplest of things – building homes, building anything really. Tilling the earth to make food and grow other plants. Even cooking was lost to most of them now. Everything was made and handed to them in convenient markets which a dwindling number of people of the land supplied. Men and women laid with each other all the time at the slightest whim, at times not even knowing the other’s name never to meet again. The act of love making meant nothing to many of them anymore. There was no special meaning behind any of it at all from what he had observed. Many respected no one’s property or even other people at all. He witnessed it personally in his own halls that they often came to defile in some way or another. It was the fact that they no longer treasured love making for the intimate act it truly was that disturbed him the most.

 

He was sure there were still some humans who at least knew of the old teachings and still cherished it, but he had yet to witness very many of them. There were “nature lovers” who did seem to adore his forest, and the animals, plants, trees and the river he kept under his care. Yet, many came here as a place to play, a place to run, a place to commit various acts of human degeneration (be it graffiti on his walls, leaving trash on the trails by or in his home, drinking into a stupor, seeking thrills from the “ghosts” and “spirits” that lived here, or simply as they put it “fucking”), whatever they felt like doing hidden by his thick trees and brush – or rather the illusion of it he had created. Few actually stopped and took in their surroundings. Feeling the breezes on their faces, listening to sounds of the forest as the leaves rustled in the wind – the river flowing beside them, looking on with appreciation at the loveliness of the canopy of trees above them. No, the children of men had become a nuisance. The children of men became dishonorable, weak, and pathetic. Each man, woman, and child had at one time walked as a king, queen or royal child in his eyes, until they proved to him that they did not deserve such an honor. Now, they had fallen far – perhaps too far for him to find them to be worthy of any praise.

 

He gazed down now from his chamber’s room at the group nearing the wing of his beloved wife’s memorial. Laughing, poking fun at one another, not really caring about what the other thought or felt about the other it seemed. The group’s leaders seemed to be directing most of their whispered venom towards one person who was lagging behind, holding hands with a young man, who looked as though he was just tolerating the lady’s attention because he had to. A spark of pity struck his heart as he watched it. The things there were saying about her were awful. The two girls in the middle didn’t seem to be a part of their mocking. In fact their glances at them were as they should be. Happy for her, but worried (most likely because they were seeing the same expression in his eyes that Thranduil was). They were her _real_ friends he mused. The girl in question looked happy, blissfully ignorant to her lover’s lack of affectionate feeling.

 

He shook his silvery-golden head and crossed the room, sitting down in a welcoming armchair, and picked up a book to read. They had produced wonderful literature, and at times still did. It was one of these he picked up now, opened it to the marked page and did his best to close his hearing and heart off to the events going on outside. He became distracted however, when he heard the voice of one in the party who had not spoken yet cry out in disgust and worry. It made him look up from his reading towards the window. He refused, however, to get up and look. He sat for a long minute listening, staring ahead at the stone wall, then put the book aside and sat back. They were so _loud_. Why were they always so loud? The girl who had just spoken was apparently soft-spoken compared to the rest of them after her outcry, _but still_ , he just wanted them to move along, and let him have some peace. When the girl in the party that made the exclamation excused herself to find her “phone” he sat back and was forced to listen with a furrowed brow to the conversation below.

 

* * *

 

 

“Man, why are you even still going out with _that_? Is the sex really that good?” Paul asked making a disgusted look as he gestured towards the path that Cassandra took.

“You know it is. You fucked her too you know.” Josh replied smirking.

Paul just shook his head and looked at Sherie and Hannah who were standing back giving them both looks that should make their blood run cold.

“You two are fucking assholes,” Sherie hissed, black curls bobbing up and down as she shook her head.

Hannah just shook her head, long, ginger-colored hair swishing about her waist as she kept opening her mouth a couple of times to say something it seemed, but apparently was so pissed that she couldn’t get any words out.

“What?!” Paul asked throwing his arms open in a defensive gesture, as if he didn’t know what he did or said that was wrong. He turned to Josh, and went on, “Seriously man,” he continued walking closer to Josh, and speaking more quietly so as to not arouse anymore wrath from the nearby women, “you look miserable. Plus when I was plowing her she was a lot thinner, and hotter. Now, it’s like she got hit by a Twinkie truck, and started chowing down.”

Josh gave him an ‘I don’t believe you just said that look’, and tried to look offended, “Look, don’t talk about her like that. She ain’t that bad, and you fucking know it. I’m just not in the mood for any of her lovey-dovey shit today. I just wanna go over to her place and eat dinner, fuck, and go to sleep. Problem is if I plan on getting some, I have to put up with all the cuddly, swoony stuff until then.”

A blonde-haired girl dressed in clothes that left little to the imagination about her figure, trotted up to Paul and gave him a pouty look, “Can we just go on already? If he wants to wait for pork belly let him.”

“Woah, Crystal, that’s low, even for you!” Paul exclaimed with a laugh.

“Well, I get tired of it. She wouldn’t even be invited to come with us if it wasn’t for you Josh, and neither would they” Crystal said venomously, nodding her head towards Hannah and Sherie.

Paul just shrugged. “She’s right, you know.” He grabbed Crystal’s hand and started walking, shouting “See ya!” over his shoulder.

As they walked on Josh noticed Crystal looking back toward him and making a kissy face at him, then turned around to watch her path. Josh chuckled at it, then looked over at Hannah and Sherie. Hannah was standing there with a grim expression, her eyes shooting daggers, arms crossed, and looking like she was ready to step into a boxing ring. Sherie had a similar expression on her face that seemed to be mixed with a weird, smug, ‘I knew you were a scumbag’ look in her eyes, and her just plain pissed off with her hands on her trim hips accenting it.

“Why don’t you just follow them? You obviously want to, you motherfucker,” Sherie spat out, her face slightly flushing with anger. Of the ladies in the group, Sherie was the one who was not only the most blatantly vocal, but she swore like a sailor. She was also the prettiest with the figure of a runway model, which made girls like Crystal envious as hell.

“Yeah, we can tell you really, _really_ wanna be here waiting for your girlfriend, as opposed to chasing the local slut’s tail down. So, go right ahead. Let Cassie’s _real_ friends wait for her. That way she can finally see what a fucking ass-hat you really are,” Hannah dared, raising her eyebrows and gesturing with both hands down the path that Crystal and Paul took.

Josh’s mouth opened for a moment in offense before speaking, “What the hell is wrong with you two? I didn’t ask her to do that, and I am not chasing anyone else’s ‘tail down’, as you put it Hannah, except the one I’m with. If you think otherwise, you can fuck off!” he shouted.

Sherie snorted, “Heh, yeah, right.”

“Shut the fuck up Sherie. For once in your life shut the fuck up!” Josh shouted again, his voice booming off the trees.

Sherie looked like she was ready to go up and slap him, but Hannah put her hand on her shoulder, gave her a knowing look, then crossed her arms again, staring at him with a hard expression, “So, what you’re saying is that you don’t want get it on with the STD queen down there, and you,” she faked a gasp, “would rather make wonderful, passionate love to your sweet girlfriend who lives and breathes for you, and has done everything she can for you over the last 4 years. Yet, you somehow seem to still treat her like shit, and from what I understand, you fuck like shit too.”

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Josh screamed as he advanced forward and stopped when Cassandra came up the hill.

At seeing the scene in front of her, the angry faces, and they weren’t sure if she had heard any of the remarks they had been making, she shouted, “What in the world is going on here?”

“Why don’t you ask lover boy over there?” Sherie sniffed then turned to go further up the path, Hannah following.

Cassandra gave Josh a puzzled, accusing look.

“It’s nothing, baby. Really. Just a misunderstanding,” he said in a quiet, overly pleasant voice, like one would use when trying to talk their way out of something as he made his way to her, laid his hands on her shoulders then pulled her against him in a tight embrace.

Cassandra’s brow knitted, but she chose to be silent, as she heard Sherie scoff at what he said, and then what he did.

“Did you find your phone?” Hannah asked over her shoulder.

Cassandra just nodded. It was obvious since she was in the process of putting it in her pocket when she came up the hill.

 

As they moved further up the path they met up with Paul and Crystal who had broken from the path and were making their way to the ruins of the tower and courtyard that stood centerpiece in the forest. No one really knew its origins, just that people claimed weird stuff happened in there, or a “presence” was felt when they entered. Legend had it that the ruins were the lost kingdom of an Elf-king, and that he, along with his people, still protected it.

 

When she seen them there she stopped dead and tried to stop Josh from going too. She had never dared veer from the path before. She wasn’t a thrill seeker, and whether the stories people told about it were true or not, she’d rather not go. Josh just snickered and pulled her along. She threw a glance at Hannah and Sherie, who just shook their heads and followed reluctantly. They shared her apprehension with going there.

 

“Look at this shit!” Paul shouted as he went under the arch, and entered what was left of the doorway to the tower.

Cassandra was tugged along inside, then when Josh finally let her go, she stopped and took in her surroundings. It was sort of dark in what was left of the entrance. The tree canopy was thicker there. The floor was no longer stone, but beaten, leaf covered earth, as autumn was there again. The rest led out into an open area of nothing but bush and forest and the remainder of walls standing widely apart, stubbornly clinging to whatever held them up, and one portion completely covered in ivy. Cassandra hugged herself for reassurance and let the others goof off and try and spook each other, as she walked forward, all the while looking above her at the canopy of trees above.

There definitely was a feeling here. It was sad, and beautiful the further down the broken hall she went, then she started making her way up a hill. The feeling here was mournful, and weirdly it was angry too. She moved along what looked like a little path towards the sides of the room looking down at the people below.

Hannah and Sherie merely watched her from below, and would cast disgusted glances over at the guys and Crystal. They horsed around, and then Paul did something she couldn’t believe…, and whatever feeling or maybe it _was_ the presence everyone talked about peaked with animosity over it. It overwhelmed her senses, and before she knew it she was screaming at the top of her lungs.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!!!”

Paul looked up at her laughed, then down at his crotch, where his dick was fully exposed as he held it while he urinated on the wall.

“Yeah, seriously man! NO ONE WANTS TO SEE THAT SHIT!” Josh shouted, then yelped when Paul turned around without zipping up.

“I really needed to go. Chill out. God! You’d think I was pissing on a church wall or something.”

“Really inappropriate Paul,” Hannah said, then huffed off with Sherie, for once speechless in pursuit.

“Gross, man, really gross,” was all Crystal said, then followed.

Josh shook his head, and went on, calling to Cassandra to come on.

“What? It’s not like it matters!”

Cassandra couldn’t believe it, and her face showed it, “Paul, either way this used to be someone’s home. You should at least respect that.”

“Whatever, Cassie.” Paul called as he walked out of the tower.

Cassandra shook her head and continued to look on for a moment in horrid disbelief at what happened. “Freaking disgusting pig,” she muttered, then looked around her.

The feeling/presence was still angry, but not as much. Then it became very clear to her that it was somewhat appeased by what she said. She couldn’t help feeling like something or someone was indeed watching her, and them. She took another moment to look about her to see if she could see anything, but without spying even a falling leaf, she shook it off and started making her way down the hill. She stopped briefly, shaking her head as she looked at the spot Paul had voided on, and then up at the canopy of trees.

“If there is someone here, I want you to know I’m sorry for what he did. Your home is beautiful, and I would never dream of doing anything so awful to it. Forgive us,” she didn’t know what drove her to say it, knowing she was probably talking to nothing but the trees and stones. Yet, she noticed something after she did and started to immediately leave, the feeling she had been sensing seemed less hostile, tinged with hope. It was warm, even welcoming. It made her stop and look up again. It really was beautiful, and quiet here with this feeling. It was warm even. It made her want to come back, oddly enough.

“May I come back? Just me. None of them? I promise I won’t do anything… “ she searched for the right word, “discourteous. I just want somewhere quiet to work, or just… be at peace. I won’t make much noise, aside from occasionally some music that I’ll listen to on my headphones. Is that ok?” She felt a little idiotic talking to nothing. But for some reason, it just seemed like someone was there, and listening. It was also a moment before it seemed like it made a decision, and another wave of warm, welcoming and pleasant wind touched her inner core.

She smiled, even if this ‘permission’ came from the trees themselves, it was good enough, “Thank you,” then she left and joined her party. Her two friends were wondering what took her so long. Her boyfriend was obviously impatient to get back on the path and home, and the others were just their normal ill-mannered selves.

 

* * *

 

 

Legolas watched her retreat into the outline of trees then looked at his father, who shocked him and the guards he had with him into stupor. His father had not come to this place in over 700 years. He was a little taken back by the woman’s ability to sense the feelings of the elves in the room, while the others seemed oblivious to it. At one point she had been standing face to face with him, and his father without realizing it. They all took in the brown hair and blue eyes, the short stature, the pretty, but plain –jane features and the slightly overweight outline. He was curious as to his father’s mood. He never really showed an interest in the humans before, having written them off as an evil he must endure until their dominion was finally over. Perhaps something sparked it when he had retired to his chambers earlier.

He also felt it odd when the girl asked to come back, and above all, that his father, who commanded the presence and mood of the room, consented to letting her return, and even nodded his head in confirmation. After she was gone, he turned to his son, and spoke in a voice that seemed cautious, “If she does come back watch over her, especially when night falls if she stays that long. Keep to it as long as she keeps her side of the bargain.” He then turned to leave.

“Yes father, but what if she doesn’t?” Legolas asked with raised eyebrows. After all, the men and women of this generation weren’t the most trustworthy from his observation.

“Then go back to your regular duties, and scare her off.” Thranduil said sternly, and with a flourish of his robes went through the arched doorway that led back to his chambers and the rest of the palace.

Legolas stared after him puzzled, then he turned to the guard nearest him, “Find Tauriel and inform her of the king’s wishes.”

 

* * *

 

Thranduil walked slowly back to his chambers. What madness had driven him to go to that part of his halls? He had come to terms with the loss of his wife many ages ago, he had even pulled himself out of his despair in order to help end the evil of Mordor, and the darkness of the world. Yet without the orcs or other foul things to fight, it was as if the spirit of evil had to rest itself in Man. It had forced him back into the depths of isolation without his dear son there to help keep him out of it. His son was gentler than he. He had seen Mordor’s terror. He had fought it as well, but it did not taint him as it had himself. His people had become his obsession again. No one else meant anything. When they had all finally sailed west, he was so deep with in it, as were his wild elves, that when his son returned to him, it was as if Eryn Lasgalen had returned. He had made the memorial chambers more for Legolas than himself. The pain of loss was always present with in him, and the emptiness, much as he wished to abandon it was almost all consuming.

Then today this girl had struck something. A curiosity, and a hope. Even he could not figure out why. Perhaps it was because he was tired of living with the constant sorrow and disappointment. His son was his greatest joy now, and the only thing he took real pride in. He had been tempted for several hundred years now to abdicate, and give the realm to his son to govern. All that held him back was the fact that Legolas did not seem keen on the idea of leadership anymore. He had been the leader of a clan of elves once, and he led them here to be ruled by his father. Plus a living sorrow had touched Legolas’ heart. It was one that he took daily measures to avoid. Tauriel. He had honestly forgiven her only for Legolas’ sake.

Perhaps that was it? He needed a distraction, and something about this human distracted him, and forced sympathy out of him that he usually reserved for his own kind. Favoring a lost cause? He knew not. But at least it would give both him and his son something to think about, or at least pay attention to other than their own pining over lost love. He wondered for a moment what her “work” was. Whatever it was, it mustn’t take any of their electronic gadgets to do, and if it does, then it mustn’t be noisy if she seeks quiet.

It was his last thought as he rounded a corner, and went into his rooms. He picked up the book he had given up reading earlier, and sat down trying to relax muscles that he hadn’t realized were tensed, wound as tight as a spring.

 

* * *

 

Dinner was simple. She didn’t want to waste too much time on it. Her mind was full of the tower in the forest. She didn’t know why. It kept her in a daze. Plus she felt tired. She often felt tired anymore. Tired and restless. When she would look at Josh who was either talking on the phone, or watching TV she couldn’t help but feel disappointed, and resigned. They’d been together 4 years. She was entering the age when it would be harder to find a partner without the added “dating profile” nonsense. She also supposed she loved him in some form. She knew she wasn’t in love with him, and was settling for him in a sense. But something in her knew she loved him on some level. Or so she assumed. After all, when they fought, the idea of him leaving her for good, as he sometimes threatened, panicked her, and broke her heart a little.

It wasn’t long afterwards when they were watching TV on the couch that he started the touchy feely stuff. She really wasn’t in the mood for it, and got up to go to the kitchen and do the dishes. He followed her, and came up behind her and with one hand cupped her breast, while he slipped the other down to the waistband of her jeans and undid the button and zipper, and snaked his hand inside. She closed her eyes feeling the sensations each brought, mind and body warring over needs and wants. As he kissed her neck, cheek and ear while working his hands in their designated spots she gave into the pooling longing it was creating, and heard him whisper the inevitable “Let’s go to bed, baby.”

She only just managed to turn the water off from the faucet when he pulled her away down the hall, then at the doorway gave her a scorching, passionate kiss on the lips before leading her inside and over to the bed.

 

It went as it normally did - frenzied, with little attention to any other places she might like to be touched or kissed, all concentrated on the pleasure of their loins, then when it was over, he rolled over and went to sleep without even saying goodnight.

It was one of the reasons she didn’t feel like it originally. For the last 3 years it had always been like this. Centered on him, and only just enough for her to get her where he wanted her. Not only when it came to sex, but everything else in general. He knew how to work her without batting an eyelash. She had become some type of submissive creature of sorts to him. A shadow of herself. She didn’t even know when that had happened.

She had also gotten so good at pretending to be blissfully happy. So good that at times she convinced herself she was. But at times like this, when she kept thinking about whatever feeling there was in the tower in the forest, she couldn’t help but feel the void she had. As a result, occasionally casting acquiescent glances at Josh, she lay awake most of the night. There was nothing else was there? No way out of this damned black hole she was being sucked into. All she had left now was her writing. It was the only place she could feel everything she really felt, and express her wants, needs and desires. Without it, she would probably go mad, she reckoned.

 

She wouldn’t get up to write this night however. Josh was there, and risking waking him up was always something she paid for in the end. So, she just settled down into her warm blankets, closed her eyes, and finally let her mind wander. Every time it did, she seen a canopy of autumn crested leaves, crumbling stone walls, and up a hill the leaf covered floor below. It filled the void a little. It was beautiful. So, beautiful in its own right, but somehow so sad it physically hurt her heart. She _would_ return, and she _would_ keep her word to whatever it was she made her promise to. Even if it was just the trees and wind itself.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas confronts Tauriel. A slightly more in depth look at Cassandra's daily interactions with her boyfriend. Thranduil begins to muse over his wife's passing after many centuries.

**CHAPTER TWO**

 

SHE came back the next day. It was late afternoon, almost evening when Legolas seen her quietly making her way under the archway, and into the entry way. She looked about her cautiously, as if checking to see if anyone else was there, and then with slight upturn on her lips, she came inside and sat down on the ground. She swung off a bag she carried on her back and unzipped it, removing a slender metal thing, and also a bound book of paper of some sort. Then something that looked like a pen. She opened the thin metal thing to reveal a bunch of buttons that had numbers and letters on them, and pushed a button. She gasped in surprise.

“What the hell? No battery? I just charged it,” she shook her head and then closed it, and put it back into the bag, “Oh well, thank heavens I brought this too.” She opened the bound book of paper, and after leafing through it to a blank page, took the pen and began writing. Legolas watched her for several long minutes before, becoming bored decided to go about the upper level checking things outside the windows, glancing down at her occasionally.

She said she would be quiet, and she was. Boringly so. Occasionally, she would look up from her work towards the trees she was seeing above her and watch the leaves shiver in the breeze, then go back to what she was doing.

“Well, this isn’t very exciting.” Legolas mumbled to himself after a couple of hours. He then started to wonder what she was writing, and let curiosity get the better of him, made his way around the upper balcony to behind her where he could look down, and with his elf sight clearly see what she was scribbling with such concentration.

It took him a moment or two to realize it was a narrative of some sort, and spent the remainder of his time between checking out the windows for trouble or wild animals that could come in and try and prey on her and them, while reading what she wrote. It filled the time. Usually he brought reading material, but with her there, he was afraid to be caught off his guard.

 

Four hours into it the person he really had no wish to see entered, glancing down at the girl below them.

“She keeps to her word?” Tauriel asked.

Legolas nodded, “She does. What do you need?”

“Nothing. The guard that was to come to join you on this watch has been called away on personal business. I am here in his stead“.

“Personal business?” Legolas inquired with a tilt of his head.

Tauriel cleared her throat and gave him a wry smile, “His wife has gone into labor.”

“Oh,” was all Legolas said, then it hit him, “Oh? A new elf-child enters the world today?”

“It seems so. So, it is a good day, I suppose,” she smiled then looked down at the girl.

He followed her gaze.

“What does she write?”

“A fictional story of some sort. It seems entertaining enough.” Legolas replied looking down at the notepad to read the latest batch of paragraphs.

“So, you’ve hardly been bored I take it?” Tauriel asked as she made her way to his side.

Legolas shuffled uncomfortably when she stopped beside him and looked down at the paper below, and watched the girl turn the notepad over to start a new page. He didn’t care to be around her at this time. Time had made it easier to deal with his feelings, however, it did not change them. In a sense, he had grown to resent them. She knew how he felt as well, and yet, she stood here, acting as if she did not. It made him feel a little bitter.

“No, I haven’t,” the words came out through clenched teeth. “You may return to your post. The likelihood of a riot happening here is non-existent.”

“I’m afraid I cannot. Your father ordered me to come,” she replied looking at him from the corner of her eye.

“I see,” Legolas commented with a sigh. “Well, in that case I will leave you to it.” He turned to leave when he heard her call out to him.

“Legolas!”

He turned to look at her his jaw clenched.

“Why are you leaving?”

He stared at her hard for several minutes before answering, “I have to give a report to my father. Besides, I figure he will want me to venture to the south borders once I give him news of the coyotes that have entered the area.”

“I see,” she bit her lip as she looked down at the girl who it seemed sensed the change in the atmosphere and was looking above her with wary eyes. She forced herself to calm before she replied, “I thought it was because you are still attempting to avoid me.” She looked up after she said this.

Legolas gave her the same hard look that she recalled his father often did when he was either disappointed or upset about something, and depending on the situation, wanted either silence or answers. “And why, do you think, would I want to avoid you? Do you suppose I have any reason to?”

She merely nodded in understanding. She chanced to speak again as he was beginning to turn away once more, “If we are both to live in this place, we cannot always do without seeing the other. Can you not try to let things be as they once were – even remotely?”

He let out a disbelieving chuckle at that. “Seriously? You’re really asking that of me? You knew how I felt about you. How I still do. Yet you turned away from it and chose to pursue the first male who made a pass at you. Tell me, have you forgotten Kili?” She looked away at that, her cheeks flushing with either anger or embarrassment, he wasn’t sure.

“You know I have not.” She whispered.

“Then how can you ask the same of me? I _defied my father_ at a crucial moment for you. I _protected_ you from his anger not only at the battle of Erebor, but many times after when Gollum escaped. I committed _treason_ for you. I was lucky he welcomed me back with open arms after that. As I said, you had to be aware how much I…” his voice which had been growing steadily louder softened as he practically choked on the words, “love you. I would have died for you Tauriel. I still would. Trust me, I tried to stop caring for you as much as I did – and still do, but I cannot. I tried becoming enthralled with other elves, even at one time the daughters of men just to get dismiss you from my heart. But it will not have it. It only made it worse. The only way I have learned to deal with this is by not seeing you. You of all people should understand that.”

“I knew you cared for me. I just didn’t understand how deeply until Erebor. By then it was too late. I know I had never pledged myself to him… but I did love him.”

“I do not wish to hear about your broken heart at this time. You could have pledged yourself to me afterwards… Our union would have healed the wound he left you to some degree. You had, or at least I thought you had, cared for me to, even if it was not with the same passion as you felt for that dwarf.” Legolas angrily stated.

“I could not!” Tauriel shouted at him.

“What? How come? Explain to me why if you think it will matter.”

“Do you not believe I thought of that? Do you not think I originally was going to let myself fall as much in love with you as you were with me had it not been for the warning in my mind that had been affirmed by your father only shortly before I truly met Kili?” Tauriel said with passionate pleas.

“If you are referring to my father denying you permission before the Battle of the Five Armies, then I already know of it, and his real reasons why. None of them had to do with you being, what did you refer to yourself as? ‘A lowly Silvan elf’,” Legolas shot back at her with an expression on his face that she had rarely seen before, a look of that bordered on hatred and disgust. But she was also taken aback by his words.

“How do you know of it?”

“You were not the only one who had a conversation with my father that day regarding my feelings for you.”

“And pray, tell me,” she stated now just as angered as he was and her voice starting to echo about the room, “what were his real reasons for denying his beloved son the pick of his heart other than the senseless prejudices he had let settle in his soul at the time?”

Legolas scoffed, “That was always the problem with you. You always think you know everything about people. Why or even how they think and believe the way they do. Why they do certain things. My father was _never_ the racist bigot you and your choice of friends in the dungeons would like to believe him to be. You did not even understand why he could not speak of my mother’s death until you experienced the grief of it yourself!” He had crossed the room during this speech and was now trespassing in her personal space, “My father did not want me to pledge myself to you _not_ because he thought you were below me, or even him, but simply because you were so young, hot-tempered, and too impulsive! You were so full of anger and a lust for revenge over not only your dead parents, and once Kili came into the picture, chasing down his aggressors _, that you did not know what actual love was until you lost it!_ ”

She gasped in shock and hurt over the words he was saying. She wanted him to stop and he knew it, but he couldn’t. It was like a breech in a dam – it was flooding out of him now.

“In short, he didn’t want me to pledge myself to you because you weren’t ready to pledge yourself to _anyone_ yet. Though many centuries old you did not have any wisdom of the world. You knew nothing! He wanted me to wait until you were older. Until the blood-lust that filled your soul had left you. Until you had become more yourself - the person I watched my father raise, before I offered my love to you. It had nothing to do with your humble origins. _Do not ever speak to me of my father’s true intentions about anything, until you know the full truth Tauriel!_ Never! Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a report to give to my father, your _‘ill-tempered king_ ’ as you and your friends like to call him. Yes, I know they call him that. Just as I know they mock me for ever having loved you.”

Tears were falling from her eyes at this point and he wanted nothing more than apologize, but he refused to. It all needed to be said, and there was one thing having led his own clan of elves once had taught him, it was when to walk away and remain silent.

He took his leave of her, hearing the heaving breaths of sobs she was giving out behind him as he turned away.

 

* * *

 

Cassandra was looking about her wildly and beginning to collect her things due to the change in atmosphere around her. It had gone from a melancholy, yet curious feeling about her, to a seething angry presence that she could only liken to a broken heart crying out in anguish after being pinned down with years of resolute resignation. Then it was gone and filled with only grief… a pain that seemed to be also be from years of denied release. When she packed up her things, it was like the presence was alarmed and did not want her leave. So, feeling awkward, she sat back down, unpacked once more, and continued to write.

She fed into the atmosphere about her which was beautiful and mournful, filing the portion of it away for a later part of her book. She stayed until dusk, then repacked, and for some reason, she felt as if she should at least partially bow in farewell.

“I will return tomorrow if I can. Will that be okay?” she asked.

There seemed to be a moment of mirth on the wind, then what felt like confirmation. She took it as a sign that she was still welcome, and whatever had pissed off the… whatever it was did not seem to consider her the cause of it. She was glad for it. She needed this place, probably right now more than ever.

When she made her way back to the trail, she glanced behind her at the shape of the archway and tower, it seemed as if there was more to it in the dwindling light. As if it were growing and taking shape, lights appeared to be popping on like wil-o-wisps among the branches. Her brow furrowed in puzzlement, and she decided it was best if she left. However, it awakened a new curiosity in her regarding the tower’s true origins, or at least its legends; why the park was named “The Grey Havens of Lasgalen” as well. No one really knew that information, and what on earth did the word, “Lasgalen” mean anyway? She decided to take a break from typing up her days chapters that night and researching the park and the tower.

 

* * *

 

 

Thranduil heard Legolas’ soft steps enter the room. He stopped wordlessly in front of him and waited for him to speak.

“I figured that I would have the pleasure of your company today. Only I expected it to be sooner, considering who I was forced to send in Itshtel’s wake.” Thranduil looked up from the papers he was going over, reports of portions of the palace that needed maintenance.

“Why did you send her? You know, I have no desire to see her at this time,” Legolas asked attempting very clearly to hide a tone of irritation in his voice.

 “I knew it would bring you to me. Can a father not wish to see his son on occasion?” Thranduil asked, standing with a teasing smile.

Legolas chuckled at that, “If that is the case father, all you had to do was send for me. You know I would have come.”

Thranduil let out his own laugh at this, something he honestly did little of the last few centuries. “Do you have anything to report?”

“Yes, the humans are having issues with the trails to the east due to the overgrowth of the nightshade vines and the storms knocking down the older trees. Do you wish us to help move them?”

“Are they posing any threat or inconvenience to our own people?” Thranduil asked cocking his head to the side.

“Of course not,” Legolas said with a smile.

“Then the answer would be ‘no’. Let the humans take care of it themselves. What else?”

“There was a pack of coyotes spotted in the south borders. Needless to say, they do pose a threat to both elf and human alike.”

“I see. Have they attacked any person, elf or human as of yet? Or are they settling for the prey of the forest for now?” Thranduil inquired, a serious look creeping in his eyes. Coyotes were a serious ever increasing problem. It used to be the wild cats and wolves, but they at least knew who to leave alone; they had an internal instinct to respect the elves for the guardians they were. Coyotes however, lacked this instinct. They seemed to be not necessarily a creature of darkness like wargs and such, but desperate, hungery, and full of anger. They took any animal they could bring down. With the elves starting to repopulate their regions since man had finally decided to start attempting to save some of the forests (more out of personal desire to survive than actually caring he assumed), it had grown safer for them to do so.

 

“Not yet, but I fear it is only a matter of time,” Legolas replied grimly. “If you wish I can go and drive them off with a small party of elves.”

 

Thranduil nodded in understanding. He looked his son over briefly, noting the tinge of red in his cheeks and a slight redness to his eyes. Had he and Tauriel had a rowel? He knew it would happen eventually, he just wished there was some way he could spare his son the pain of seeing Tauriel again had caused. Perhaps he had been wrong to send her.

“That would perhaps be for the best,” he said sitting back down in his chair thoughtfully. Coyotes of all things… “Anything else?”

“Well,” an amused smirk crossed his son’s face, “not that it’s of any real concern, but the girl came back.”

Thranduil attempted to act uninterested, and as if he didn’t know which one Legolas was referring to, “I see. Which girl would that be? Many come here.”

“Don’t try and be coy father. At least, not with me. You know which one I am referring to.”

“Very well,” Thranduil threw his hands out to his sides, palms up, in a mock defeated gesture, “you know me all too well, son. So, did she keep her promises?”

“She did.”

“And out of curiosity, did you learn what ‘work’ it was that she was referring to, when she petitioned for leave to come here?” Thranduil questioned raising his eyebrows.

“She is a writer, it appears,” Legolas replied with a look of amusement.

Thranduil looked on with feigned disinterest, “Why does that seem to amuse you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t consider the Halls of Lisilelena a very comforting atmosphere to write in.”

He flinched at the sound of his wife’s name involuntarily. Legolas must have seen it for he immediately apologized, “Forgive me, I was not mocking it. Just it is steeped in mournful memory quite often.”

Thranduil looked away for a moment to gather his emotions in place, “I did not think you were mocking it my son. It’s just, as with you, at times it is easier for me to not see or hear of the object of my discord. The memories I have of your mother has been heavy on my mind the last day or so. I know not why,” he looked up at his son, after saying those words in almost a whisper, “We are very alike my child, and I do hope against hope, the hurt of your heart will one day be mended.”

Legolas took his turn at turning away, and looking back, “I gave up hope for that many ages ago. It is my hope that one day I may at least meet someone else who will ease the pain she brings upon me, and provide you with a grandchild.”

Thranduil breathed in deeply before releasing it, and speaking, “I am in no hurry to have a grandchild. I merely wish for you to be happy, as any parent would.”

“Forgive me. I just know it was…,” Legolas hesitated before continuing, “a wish of my mother.”

Thranduil’s mouth tightened into a thin line for a brief moment, “Yes, it was. As for Tauriel, I would not totally give up yet.” Legolas looked at him through narrowed, puzzled eyes. Thranduil decided to not elaborate on his statement, his son would find out soon enough he imagined. He had seen it in the mirror when he looked into his son’s future.

 He chose to move on to the more pressing matter of the coyote pack, “Take a band of elves, however many you believe you will need, and go south in pursuit of the coyotes. Kill if you must, just be careful to not be seen or heard if you do, especially at night. My spells for hiding us sometimes fail then, especially if there are Faeries in the area. If any of them stray from the pack, as they have been known to do, and you are unable to locate it, send word. I’ll send our outside contacts out to inform the human’s game warden. Return once you have driven them out.”

Legolas made a sound of disgust, “Faeries? I do hope I will not meet any of their kind on our path.”

Thranduil nodded in agreement, “So do I, Legolas. But with the Elves having diminished, and this being the land they called home first, their powers are stronger here, and numbers are far more than ours. They are a necessary evil. Not all are malicious, especially to our kind, but some do not pay heed to the rules of the Valinor as we do. The Grey Havens, beautiful as they are, still have their dangers, and unfortunately, their race is one of them. Just remain wary of any women or men that fit their description, or who offer food and drink in odd places as they at times throw a glamour to hide their identities.”

“I understand,” Legolas replied, then bowing with hand to his heart then outstretched as was their custom, bid his father farewell.

“Please be safe, my beloved one,” Thranduil whispered, knowing his son would not hear it.

 

* * *

 

“Where the fuck have you been?” Josh snarled once Cassandra got out of the car. Apparently, he had been waiting for her in his truck. “I’ve been here for over 20 minutes waiting on your fat ass to get here! Why the hell isn’t your phone on? I’ve been calling non-stop since I got here! I thought you were in a car wreck or something!”

During this time period, they had climbed the outdoor stairwell to her the floor of her apartment, and the last statement he shouted was right in front of her neighbor’s door.

She spun around glaring, “Can you keep it down until we get inside? Also, why the hell are you talking about my ‘fat ass’ anyway? You’re still fucking me every chance you get, so you must obviously like it.”

His mouth dropped open, and he was speechless long enough for her to get to her door, unlock it and go inside. She was tempted to slam it on him before he stepped in but decided not to go that far. There was a time she would have years ago when Ron was still alive. But now, she just wanted to deflate the situation, get her dinner, and go to bed. Hopefully, he’ll leave without wanting some… nookie. She knew he probably did. Food and sex were generally the only things he ever came over for anymore, and the one usually led to the other.

Lately, she wondered every time she was with him why she was. She wasn’t in love with him. She cared about him. But she also cared about her cat who was dozing on her armchair in the living room. Each time, a solid answer never entered her mind as to why she didn’t just break up with him, aside from the facts that she was tired, lonely, and not rail thin like she once was. Fucking society, and their standards for beauty these days. Josh was the first guy she had been genuinely attracted to in years that liked her too, and he wanted her despite however fat and little she took care of her appearance nowadays. She mused that it was clinging to all of that which made her stay. Lame, but she could not come up with anything else.

“Yeah, I do like it,” he said with a smirk and coming behind her grabbing a handful of cheek on her backside.

She closed her eyes not with arousal but exasperation.

“Just freaking call or something next time. I thought you were dead or in the hospital or something!” he exclaimed. It honestly looked like he was worried to her. It would seem sweet to her if she didn’t suspect it to be a prelude to something else. “Where the hell were you anyway?”

“I was at the park,” she mumbled as she went to the kitchen and began pulling out a skillet and a pot.

“The park? What the fuck for?”

“I just wanted to walk, and write somewhere quiet. That’s all.”

“Well, you could write here,” he gestured to the room around him, “Or at my place. Besides if you called and said you were going there, I would have come too.”

He apparently wasn’t catching the hint that she wanted to be alone, “I know. I’m sorry. I just wanted some time to myself. Besides, walking is good for losing weight.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, then went over to the couch and flopped down. “I have no idea what to do with you sometimes.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” she mumbled through gritted teeth, still annoyed by his earlier outburst, and turned the burners on the stove.

 

* * *

 

 

“It seems I am to have very little peace today. What do you need Tauriel?” Thranduil asked turning from his window overlooking the path and river that ran alongside it.

Tauriel stepped into view, bowing her head, then looking up, “I was wondering if I could go south. Legolas told me there is a pack of coyotes…”

Thranduil interrupted, “Legolas has already taken an armed band of elves in the southern direction to hunt for them. I’m afraid I will need you to stay here.”

She sighed, bit her lip, and nodded as she spoke, “I understand, sir.” She lingered for a moment. She wanted to ask him if what Legolas told her was true regarding his true reasons for originally denying her permission to bind herself to Legolas. She knew it was honestly. Legolas never mislead her. Plus, she and the king had come to some understandings about why he was the way he was. Why he dealt with certain situations in the manner he chose to. But in all these ages of the world that had passed since the last battle for Middle Earth had passed, he never recanted his dismissal of her being able to care for Legolas in more than a platonic way. Yes, Kili came along at just the right time. But now and then, she was forced to try and consider just how deep her love for that dwarf was. It pained her terribly, his loss. But perhaps not to the depths it should. Or maybe time had just began to heal it enough for her to move on? For her kind pledging themselves (or as the humans called it, becoming engaged) was the act that bound their fates together. The union of bodies was what sealed it and wedded them.

He had since returned to staring out the window, ignoring her presence for a long time. She was turning to leave when he spoke, “What else do you require Tauriel?”

She bit her lip again, suddenly nervous. All resolve to ask had left her, and she merely bowed, “Nothing, sir. May I go now?”

He waved a hand in dismissal, not looking at her. She eyed him once more before turning and walking away.

 

Thranduil looked on into the night restless. It had been years since he had felt this way. It felt as if there was something in the air. Something he could not place. Perhaps he should journey to see Galadriel or Elrond? Whatever it was, it felt as if something was going to happen. It wasn’t an ill feeling, just one that made him feel anxious nonetheless.

“Lisilelena,” he whispered into the night gazing at the moonlit river below, “how many centuries has it been since I heard your name spoken aloud? How many?”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After two weeks of almost daily visits, Thranduil decides it's time to reveal more of his realm to Cassandra, and to "test the waters".

**_CHAPTER THREE_ **

 

SHE returned every day, save two the next two weeks. Almost always coming before the afternoon ended and evening was to begin. Through this time period Legolas spent his time reading the story she was writing over her shoulder. Occasionally, Tauriel would show up, and he would promptly leave. He knew he couldn’t keep it up for long. He would eventually have to do a watch with her and come to an uneasy peace. As night would fall he would spend his time following this girl to the edge of the wood to ensure she safely made it to her “car” as they called them now.

 

Today however it was a little different. She didn’t just come toting her backpack and the occasional snack. She was coming with a broom, and a bag of plastic is what he thought the material was called. He watched her in confusion as she set her bag down, then looked about her hopelessly. His people tried to clean things up, but the night before a group of utter fools decided to spend the night to try and conjure up the spirits that lived there, and drank until they passed out. Trash was everywhere still.

No matter how much they cleaned up, humans left their waste there, aside from this human. He seen she stared straight ahead at the wall in front of her and sighed. “Might as well start with that.”

Months ago, some teenage humans had spray painted the wall with vulgar images and profanities, and nothing the elves tried without it being overly noticeable could fix it. He stared hard at her, questioning what she was about to do.

 

She looked above her right at him even. It made him nervous, and he looked about himself uncomfortably. “I’m pretty sure there is someone here. You may not be human, but I can’t help feeling like you’re there, and you’re here right now listening and you understand me. If I’m wrong and I’m only talking to the trees and the squirrels, it’s fine too. Some type of being in this world is watching. I want you to know what I plan on doing. You can… scare me off if you don’t like it, and I won’t come back.”

Legolas reached behind him for one of his swords. He was going to be ready if what she said was a breech in her contract. He could cut down one of the dead tree branches that hung low from the trees above if need be. A branch, not a limb. While he was suspicious, the broom made him question if this was meant to be harmful, so he waited for her explanation.

She took a breath, “I’m going to try and get rid of the graffiti on the wall. But I have to use a strong chemical to take it off. It smells bad, but it works, and another foul smelling chemical to stop the first from eating into your walls. I don’t know if you’ll have a problem with that or not. But if it’s ok, I want to do it. Then I’ll wash it off with soap and water. The smell will still be there, but the stuff that takes it off will be totally washed away. After that I want to try and clean up here a little, which is why I brought the broom and bag. ”

Legolas wasn’t sure what to do about this. On one hand she meant no harm. She was actually trying to help. On the other, the “chemical” she was talking about, may disturb his father’s magic, and force that portion of the palace to be exposed. He was completely tense, and for once, unsure what to do. He called out to a guard that he knew would be standing in the other hall. He came running in alarm.

“I need my father. This is a decision I am unable to make. Ask him to come here.”

The guard looked confused, but didn’t hesitate to turn on his heel and do as he was ordered.

He watched her from above, and she seemed to be hesitating again. She looked puzzled. “Do I need to wait for you to make a decision? Um…,” she looked about her then back up at him again. He knew she _seen_ nothing, but obviously _felt_ something, “I can do the clean up first then.”

She went back to her bag and the broom, glanced up at his spot again, and then over at a pile of trash a couple feet away. She bent down, opened her backpack and pulled out a pair of blue rubber gloves, put them on, and went over to the trash pile and began stuffing the large pieces in the bag.

 

A couple minutes later Thranduil came hurriedly in, glancing first at his son in worry, then down at the girl below. His brow raised in disbelief, and was followed by a frown, then a look of annoyance spread across his features when he looked again at his son. Legolas, the only one besides his mother who ever chose to hold their ground unwaveringly among them when his father was annoyed or angered, took a deep breath. His father didn’t speak, but his ice-blue eyes were demanding an explanation.

“She’s cleaning,” Legolas said, immediately feeling like an idiot.

Thranduil cocked his head to the side, and the look on his face conveyed pure exasperation. With pursed lips he said, “Obviously. Is this why you called me out of meeting with my masons and master carpenters? To tell me that the human is doing the job I expect my own people to perform when they can, and she is showing more reverence and respect for my queen’s halls than her own people do?!” His voice was climbing, and echoed off the walls by the time he finished.

 

Legolas took a breath to steady himself. He was a little perturbed now too with that statement. “Of course not, and I resent the insinuation that you just made that I am failing to care for my own mother’s memorial. I already explained to you why we had not cleaned up yet. Those fools didn’t leave until this morning. We could not venture out to do it without something odd being seen. You _know_ that.”

Thranduil merely raised a single eyebrow at that, the look of irritation still apparent, and with a wave of his hand bid him to continue.

“She wishes to clean off the vile paintings on the walls.”

The anger was replaced with confusion and suspicion, “How did she propose to do that?”

“By use of some chemicals that apparently can take it off. My concern was that it will disturb the spell you have cast to protect the palace.”

Thranduil looked down for a moment at the girl who had stopped cleaning and was looking above her now. He straightened a little more at this.

“She senses us somehow, as you have already suspected.” Legolas said softly.

“Many of the daughters of men do. So, that is hardly surprising.” Thranduil replied in a dismissive voice. Then he brought a fisted hand to his mouth and let his index finger rest on his lip as he thought it over. He watched her for several long moments. She apprehensively went back to cleaning up the floor, with some occasional side-glances to the canopy of trees above her.

Something impulsive was growing with in him. An impulse that could either get this girl killed, locked up in an asylum, or if his instincts were serving him right, could help him somehow. He wasn’t exactly sure how that was possible but there was a connective energy which he could clearly feel that stirred it within him, making him want to trust her. It was not a sexual attraction. It was something else entirely… a thread he could not name quite yet.

 

 Knowing it would be stupid to recklessly reveal all to her, he made a decision as he finally broke his gaze from the woman below, and up to the dwindling light that the girl did not seem to take notice of. Autumn made the days shorter he knew that, she would need to go soon, or he would have to keep her there. If he didn’t keep her there, because of what he was about to do, she would see too much, and also be in danger from the night prowlers. The coyote pack, though most were driven off, still had some stragglers who had broken away from the pack, and even his elves were unsure where they were. No, if he was to do something like this, on this day, he had to do it now.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath that settled into his core, opened his eyes and with it spread his arms out to his sides, as he exhaled.

He heard Legolas and a few other elves behind him gasp in alarm.

“What are you doing?!” cried Legolas as he looked about him wildly seeing the glow of the magic his father used fall away around them in a wave. Not all of it, just a couple of layers of it, but it alarmed him nonetheless.

Thranduil lowered his arms to his sides, and blinked, dazed for a moment by the power it took to cast the type of spell he just had, and looked at his son. “I’m testing the waters,” he said, a dare in his voice. He was challenging those around him to say something about his decision.

“She will see…” Legolas trailed off looking down the hallway to the closed door covered in thick ivy and was one of the most heavily guarded secrets they kept in the palace from the humans.

“I know. If she steals anything, get rid of her. Chase her back to her damned city if you have to. Yet while she investigates, bring me that.” He pointed below him at the backpack.

Legolas looked down at the stone floor, torn. “What if she doesn’t steal anything? But what if she tells someone about what she has seen? What if she tells them about the gems? About us and this palace?”

Thranduil looked down at her for a brief moment, seeing her straighten up, stretching, with her eyes closed. Once she opened her eyes, she would see more than any human had of his realm in centuries. He looked at his son then. “Who will believe her? They’ll believe the stone to be fake if she tries to sell it if she steals any of the gems. No, my son, we are at less risk than her in this. She will called mad if she tells. She is now part of this place.”

Legolas shook his head in disbelief, “How much have you revealed to her?”

Thranduil looked about him waving a hand about him, “Only what is in this wing. Once I have read this story of hers that she creates with in my Halls, I will further decide how much she will see.”

Legolas gave him a perplexed look.

“If you will not retrieve the bag itself, get the papers that she writes it on.”

Legolas shifted in spot not having any idea what exactly was going through his father’s mind now, “Yes, sir. I do not understand, but I will do as you request. Only…”

“Only?” Thranduil questioned with raised eyebrows.

“She came here to clean today. What if she did not bring her papers with her today?” Legolas asked crossing his arms about his chest.

“Then wait until she does bring it again. She will not see you until I let it be so. Until then she will merely see a stag when she looks upon you on the lower level or in close range. When you are distanced from one another, she will see nothing. The same with the others of my realm, she will see just flocks of deer, fawns and their stags. It is rutting season, is it not? So, there is nothing unusual about bucks and does gathering in large groups at this time of year. The only thing that may strike her as odd will be your manner and the eyes. If she is truly observant she will notice it; if not, then do not worry much of it. I also do not believe she will continue with her desire to lift the paintings from the walls tonight once the veil is lifted from her eyes. If she does, send word, and I will give you further instruction.”

 

Knowing that sent a wave of relief over Legolas entire body. He understood what his father’s meaning was about his manner and the eyes. He was not ignorant of the deep magic, and was able to perform it as well. His stature noticeably unstiffened with the knowledge of what his father was doing. “What do you plan on doing? Why do you wish to see her work of fiction?”

There was a fleeting moment of vulnerability and uncertainty that crossed his father’s features, “I do not wish to explain it at this time. Just understand, if my inner being is right, the winds of change will come soon, carving new paths in the halls of this palace for both of us. Once I have finished reading it, you will return it to her. Depending on her behavior tonight, and on the manner she writer her tale will I make any further decision to how much will be revealed to her.”

Thranduil turned on his heel and left the rooms, the red robe flaring out and trailing behind him. Legolas knew better than to ask for clarification of his father’s intentions. He was well aware he could ask for explanations all night, but would not receive any.

 

* * *

 

 

When Cassandra opened her eyes there was a brief glint of something that she could only describe as gold glitter falling about her. It obviously wasn’t because it did not stick to anything once it made contact with a surface, but merely vanished like a dream. Her eyes seemed clouded over and hazy for a moment as she looked about her. Something seemed different. Not only with the presence that was in the air, but the way the place itself looked. She closed her eyes again, rubbed them, and when she opened them it was like her eyes had been under a thick, misty veil and only now could she see clearly. On top of it, the room itself was changed. It was no longer decrepit, and falling apart, but was firmly standing with 4 walls about her, only the doorway she had come in remaining open.

 

The ceiling was still open to the world, and the room itself seemed to be built around the trees surrounding it. The lower level was open to the elements as a result, but the upper level was in fact covered with a beautiful carved patterned roof of sorts. The intricate patterns looking Celtic in origin almost, but with a flair and beauty completely alien to her. The floor still had fallen leaves on it, but not as many as it appeared before, and the floors themselves were no longer trodded down earth, but seemed to shine like they were cleaned and polished daily. She wasn’t sure what kind of material they were made of. It wasn’t marble, or granite or limestone. But something a type of stone that she wasn’t sure what it could be called. The trash she hadn’t collected yet remained, as did the graffiti on the wall, but the walls, though encrusted with the vines of ivy and nightshade it had upon it just as before, they were clean and cared for in a way that it was clear this was a place of special meaning to someone – or _something_.

 

In the dwindling light, she peered down the hall and noticed not only carved pillars which the upper balconies stood upon, but on the lower level hidden or protected perhaps under the floors of the upper level were various writings carved in the walls. All in a style and dialect she had never seen before. Finally she looked up the hill that was obviously a ramp which led to the upper level. Where once stood a vast tree with ivy tracing its way up its trunk was just a wall with the ivy growing about it, as if guarding something. On its sides stood two imposing but beautifully carved statues. One was a tall, woman lovely woman draped in robes she had never seen but were reminiscent of the early days of kings and queens in her ancestor’s native Irelend, and the other a man, who stood taller still, just as beautiful, and hair reaching almost past his waist, clothed in a similar fashion.

She was very well aware that she should be frightened. She should be running out of that place as fast as her legs could take her – but she was rooted in her spot. She wasn’t scared at all. Plus there was something different about the… thing, for lack of a better word, that commanded the room’s mood and such, or as she had come to start calling it ‘the guardian’. She had grown to know without any doubt that there was something not human here, and it wasn’t no regular animal either. Whatever it was didn’t seem to mind her coming there, and it didn’t seem to even mind her company. The manner in which it felt differed at times as well. At times, it felt feminine, most of the time masculine, and at others, for brief moments like just a couple moments ago, it seemed like there were several of whatever they were in the room.

 

She had come to believe some of the stories before this moment about who, or rather what these ruins belonged to. When she researched it, even going to the library and checking out old books of the history, urban legends and folk tales of their city, she gleaned from the scattered writings that the first settlers here met what they called “The Fair Folk” and later “The Children of Stars”. The Fair Folk appeared to be more along the lines of what her ancestors believed to be gods or faeries. The Children of the Stars were Elves who sailed here from a place in the East. This place, when it had once been mostly a forest and few humans lived here, was built and ruled by a group of the Children of the Stars. They were ruled by a king, who was later joined by his son and the clan he lead. Beyond that there was nothing. Not even what the word Lasgalen meant.

 

The urban legends spoke of run-ins with them. They had turned from friendly, to kind of neutral, to basically straight out annoyance save for a couple of times when “the spirit’s presence” “or “the guardians of the forest” guided them to safety. This seemed to be something only reserved for lost children though. The rest all seemed to state that whatever was here did not like humans and wanted us to get the fuck out.

 

Hence, she was very ready at this point to believe that she was experiencing some type of spell, or at the very least a hallucination brought on by whatever was here. Or perhaps this was the reality, and what she and everyone else saw before was the spell? She couldn’t be sure. Either way, she knew she should be freaking the fuck out, but instead she was calmer than she had been in years. ‘The guardian’ even seemed welcoming to her. Not only welcoming, but protective and reassuring. Whatever it was, it was basically calling for her to come up the ramp. She didn’t even have a sense of warning that most everyone who met with faerie or some type of creature likened to it had. From what she remembered about the lost children, they all said that when they met the “children of the stars” they didn’t feel scared or creeped out by anything. They said they were elves – not evil, in fact beautiful, kind, fair and wise. So, hoping that it was an elf calling her up there, she followed the beckoning call on the wind, and headed up the ramp.

 

Once she was there she examined the two statues more closely. Both stood several inches taller than her. Not larger than life, but the size of two very tall beings. The thing that stood out most to her were the ears, they were pointed on the ends, like elves. A feeling not connected to the presence in the room settled in her stomach. A nervous, fluttering feeling. She was now convinced the stories were true. She reached out to touch the one of the lady, as some of the vines had settled about her shoulders and veiled hair. She pulled them gently away and let them fall into the waterfall of vines that hung between the space of the two figures. In its wake were the remnants of moist dirt, which she wiped away with her sleeve. She gazed at the statue for a long time. This woman was easily the most beautiful she had ever seen, regal and very much like a queen would.

 

“I believe you deserve a crown dear lady, but not one of twigs and vines.” She was aware that she was talking to a statue, but once she did there was a wave of what could only be described as joy, hope, reassurance, and relief oddly enough that cause even the trees to make a sound she had never heard. It was also centered in one spot which she found herself turning towards slowly towards, and walking to the left a few steps. When she did, she seen laying down in a restful stance, not one, but three stags. Two were smaller, and auburn colored, the one that seemed to be radiating the most feeling was golden, and had a set of antlers that adorned him like a crown.

 

More to the point, they all seemed to be at peace with one another, and _glowing_. She could feel her mouth hanging open. They were beautiful. Plus, unlike she had felt before when she had encountered a buck, she did not feel endangered. As she gazed on, she knew there was something else that was different, and it took her a long moment to figure it out. It was the eyes. Not only were all three staring back at her with very expressive, intelligent blue eyes, but the eyes were practically _human_ it seemed. The golden one bowed his mighty head in what could only be described as a nod towards her in acknowledgement. Then its eyes strayed to the vines between the two statues. She followed his gaze warily. She only now noticed the gentle rustling of the vines as if a calm breeze was blowing behind it making the long cascade of ivy and nightshade move only slightly. She looked back at what she was sure had been the presence she had been feeling all this time, the guardian, and it merely seemed to incline it’s head further out with a swift indication in the vines direction as if ordering her to go explore it.

She cast another look at the stag and went back. She looked briefly at the lady’s statue, and then after centering herself in front of the vines, up at the man’s. He was just as lovely as the lady, though clearly male. At his hip was a carved sword with intricate patterns cast into the handle itself. He looked proud, strong and determined. A king no doubt. This had to be the elf-king of legend. The protector of this place. Was the stag she was seeing his familiar, or actually him throwing a glamour? She looked back over her shoulder at the space where she knew the guardian of this place was and seen it now standing, not advancing, but extending its chin out and swiftly indicating the area she was standing in front of.

She could feel herself shaking. She wasn’t frightened. It was actually the lack of fear that was starting to build up a panic now. She was Irish, well, part Irish. She knew this was either going to be a test, or something to show her about where she was, and a bargain was going to be offered, or both. No matter what species of other-worldly creature there was, that was always what happened in the stories she knew. She bit her bottom lip, and closed her eyes as she reached out into the vines. The entryway was hollow. She expected this somehow, and she made herself walk forward parting the draping vines with her hands. Into what, she had no idea.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra enters the elf-queen's chambers, as Legolas watches on to see if she passes the test before her. Josh and Cassandra fight. Thranduil muses over memories of his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am posting this again from the rough draft. It is safe to say I will continue to do this until I finish the story. So, please forgive any spelling errors.

**_Disclaimer: This story is a work of fanfiction for The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings, and is not endorsed by anyone affiliated with the Tolkien estate, or the movies by Peter Jackson. All official characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement, offense, or solicitation is intended. This story has been written for entertainment value only. No profit is being made from this writing. Note, all original characters contained herein belong me, MoonofMorrigan._ **

 

 

 

**_CHAPTER FOUR_ **

 

LEGOLAS watched with both trepidation and an odd excitement as he inclined his head towards the vine covered doorway that led to his mother’s private quarters. It would first take her through the room that would have been her study, after she passed through the hall with its walls painted with murals of his mother’s life up until her death. Of various objects displayed on the built in shelves. Finally, at the end of the hallway would be his mother’s bedroom. Somewhere, that had his mother lived, his father would have been inclined to spend his time more in than in his own.

 

Well, it would have been her bedroom _here_. How long had it been since he, himself had went down that corridor? He glanced upwards, night was beginning to close in. Lights were beginning to be lit. Lanterns were always lit with in his mother’s halls so that any who wished to pay homage to her could.

 

Finally, with trembling hands he seen her disappear within. He resisted the urge to follow her. To make sure she would not steal the gems that were his mother’s gift to his father’s house. The heirlooms of his family now. The gems that started the last war between the dwarves and elves.

He forced himself to focus on the bag she had left behind on the bottom level. He swiftly made his way around the corner to the smoothed flooring that led to the lower level, and to the bag. He unzipped it quickly, throwing a glance over his shoulder towards the entryway to his mother’s chambers though he knew she would not be back anytime soon. He rummaged through its contents and after noting several objects which he had no idea what they were, but decided to ignore, he found a notebook. He pulled it out and examined it for moment, then opened the red cover and leafed through it to make sure it was what he was looking for. Seeing that it was, he closed the bag up again, and stood staring at it. Somehow, it seemed wrong to just take it. Even if he was just borrowing it. The point was that he was taking it without her knowledge. She had spent hours working on this. When she found out that it was missing, he could hardly imagine how she would react.

 

He sighed and returned to the upper terrace. Nevertheless, the king’s order, is his will. There was a reason for this he had to keep telling himself.

“Give this to the king,” he ordered one of the guards handing him the notebook.

The guard took it and left in a sprint. After which, Legolas looked over at the opening that the woman had entered. Following her now wouldn’t be so strange even if she sees him.

“Keep watch,” Legolas ordered the remaining guard and crossed the room and disappeared in the vine covered entrance to his mother’s chambers.

 

* * *

 

Cassandra hesitated at first when she entered the hallway. Unlike the rest of the place so far, the walls here were smoothed out. Pictures were painted upon them. The pictures were beginning to fade in color, but the detail was still there. What caught her eye the most after glancing down the long hallway lit with beautifully crafted lanterns, was that in all of the paintings the same beautiful woman was pictured in some form. Underneath each, was a shelf that housed an object that clearly was feminine in some way or another.

 

She stepped quietly over to the first painting noting that her footsteps still echoed in the lonely hall. Windows that were somehow kept from letting the elements in (it was so delightfully warm in this hall) peppered the hallway with long draperies.

 

Cassandra went over to the study the first picture. In it a little girl, ebony haired and lovely was chasing butterflies in a blue dress with what Cassandra assumed were her parents. But these were not humans. The pointed ears and the ethereal beauty that was displayed in evening the painting made it clear that this was a faerie, or an elf. Since the fables told of this being an elf’s kingdom she assumed that the lady was of that race. She was also very aware that if she told anyone about what was happening to her now she would be carted off to a hospital and pumped with up with some kind of sedative. She knew she would sound insane. Perhaps she was insane… maybe this wall is just a tree…?

 

She reached out to touch the wall beside the painting. It felt like smooth stone to her fingertips. She continued to gaze at the little girl and then down at pair of dainty little shoes which seemed to be the same ones pictured in the painting on the girl’s feet.

She still doubted her sanity to a point, so she reached out and touched the shoe, while whispering, “Forgive me. I’m just trying to make sure I’m not crazy,” to whoever could be listening if this really was happening.

Refusing to lift it off its shelf, she ran her fingers over the material, releasing the deep breath she had been holding in as she felt leathery material against her fingertips.

 

“Okay. So, it’s real. It’s real,” she commented quietly more to herself than anyone then turned from the painting to go further down the hallway to the next mural on the other side.

 

The girl was no longer a girl, but from what Cassandra could make out, a teenager. Even in the painting the young lady was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She couldn’t imagine how lovely she would have been in real life. The ebony hair of the lady fell to her waist, as in her hand she held a bouquet of wild flowers, surrounded by trees that seemed to be tall and golden around her, decked out in a blood red gown trimmed with gold lace and ribbons. Her figure would even make Sherie envious (well, if Sherie were the jealous type), and above all else Cassandra noted one thing above all else – this woman, though her head was turned so that only a portion of her face could be seen, was the same one in the statue outside. Cassandra was sure of it.

 

Beneath the picture was a book opened to a page to show a pressed flower which Cassandra could not name, other than it was once red. She looked harder at the book, and realized she had never seen writing like that before. It was same as the writing on some of the walls around the hall outside. But this was hand written, and seemed to have been written with a careful hand. She glanced once more at the picture then moved on.

 

There was a pattern to the way they were presented in the hallway. Window, pillar, and then picture. The lantern light gave everything a softer glow and the paintings themselves were so well done, that she was starting to get lost in them.

 

The next one was of her with a very tall elf- man, just as lovely but with long silvery blond hair dressed very much like a prince in robes of green and gold bowing to her, a golden circlet about his head as she stood in front of him dressed in a white gown looking very angelic beneath a wisteria tree in full bloom. She couldn’t be sure but she had a feeling this elf-man was the same one from the other statue. Beneath the mural was another book. Well worn, written in a different hand, clearly feminine with a rather detailed doodle of the elf-man (who was in the picture) in a full frontal portrait. Cassandra smiled knowing she was right, as well as not being able to summarize that this was probably a diary or something, and this elf-maid was gushing over this elf-man.

 

The next one was clearly of a wedding, both dressed in glittering silver and between the two a treasure chest of brilliant white jewels at their feet. Even in the picture the love they shared was evident. Around them flowers were in bloom, trees in full show. The area about them lit with lanterns twinkling like stars. All the people around them were bowing to both of them. Without a doubt now, Cassandra knew that not only this was the couple who guarded the door to these realms, but this was the elf-king, and the lady his queen. She stared hard at the picture noting every detail of their features before looking down at a set of rings in and an amber jewel set in both, small diamonds surrounding each jewel. One was clearly a man’s and the other a woman’s, laying between them was the silver tiara that the queen was wearing the picture.

 

A sinking feeling starting to settle in Cassandra’s stomach. For some reason she was beginning to feel like this place wasn’t necessarily a tomb, but it wasn’t “lived in” either. It was a memorial to this woman. She didn’t know why that feeling was starting to set in, but seeing the rings displayed there instead of on the fingers of their owners, it made it worse. It made her feel melancholy in a way she couldn’t understand. After all, she didn’t know them, did she? Yet the feeling was over powering. She wanted to weep because of it.

 

She tore herself from the wedding picture to the next. Just a simple picture of the two walking in a forest holding hands and gazing at each other in a way that only true lovers would. Below it, a locket made of silver. It was unopened, and Cassandra, though tempted to open it, refused to touch it.

 

The next showed her sitting in a cavernous room, heavy with pregnancy one hand on her belly. Below it was another book with a green leaf sitting pressed inside it. Looking somewhat like a maple leaf (though not any maple leaf she had ever seen), it seemed odd that it still held such vibrant color after having been dried out.

 

The next mural displayed a blond haired toddler walking between the two parents, holding their hands and looking intently at his mother, who returning the gaze, was smiling, while the father was looking ahead, a slight smile on his face (just a mere twitch at the ends of his lips), but clearly trying to lead the way. The objects below these pictures were obviously personal to them. Things no one else but a mother or father would keep as a memory.

 

After this, the picture was not a happy one and clearly was years later. The elf-king was kissing her hand  as if saying good bye. The boy, now a man stood beside his mother with a pitiful look as his wife was painted to have tears running down her cheeks. A host of elves stood in the background, and a white stag stood immediately behind the elf-king, actually saddled as a mount. A blade beneath this one, gleaming and silver in the light.

 

Finally, coming to the end of the corridor to the set of wooden doors that were closed in front of her, she noted a final mural to her right. But it was something she had to force herself to go over to and look at. On a stone precipice the man was cradling the woman in his arms. Her body broken, bruised and covered in blood laying limp against him with closed eyes. The anguish on his face made Cassandra stagger back a step and cover her mouth to strangle out the cry she almost let out at seeing it. At first she didn’t register the item on the display stand, though it shone like starlight itself. When she did, she couldn’t help grimacing at the sheer difference between the beauty in front of her, and the horrid memory that was painted on the wall above it.

 

It was a necklace. One of a craftsmanship she had never seen before, just as she had never seen such jewels of brilliance either. She gazed and wondered at its beauty for several long moments before remembering the jewels in the other painting. It must have been meant for her, or was hers. Whichever it was, its beauty was of such wonder that even she could hardly believe she was seeing it. She cast another look up at the painting on the wall, feeling a little sick at the sight. Sure, she seen this type of thing all the time in movies, but somehow this was more profound than that, and it touched something inside her so deeply it was as if she had experienced this queen’s loss as well. She felt a single tear roll down her cheek, then wiped away another, having not realized she was crying. She shook her head and closed her eyes to shut the image out, and turned away. She took several deep breaths to calm herself before going back to the wooden doors.

 

She stood before them for a couple of moments before reaching out and touching the handles to open them. They were heavy, but gave easily enough and she found herself walking into a small library from what it seemed. All the books and rolled up scrolls were old, clearly used and sitting just so. A fire blazed in the fire place lighting and warming much of the room. Lanterns hung from the ceiling from golden chains above her to add more light.

 

Afraid to touch anything, Cassandra merely looked along the shelves noting almost all the books were adorned with something written in the writing she had seen in the books on display in the hallway. Some _appeared_ to be in English, but it was ancient Anglo-Saxon English. There would be no way she could read them. The center of the room housed a beautifully made desk and chair made of a dark mahogany wood. A quill, yellowed paper, and different articles placed in perfect display as if in a scene depicted by a museum. There were other chairs (and end tables), that looked infinitely more comfortable about the room, but the desk seemed to be the center of attention. It was clearly a woman’s room. Adorned with trinkets or paintings here and there that only a woman would pick out. Not a single window was in the place, but if it was a study or library, you wouldn’t need that if there was light enough.

 

She looked at the other end of the room and seen another closed wooden door. She hesitated before approaching it. For some reason it felt as if this was going to be _it._ The place where if she was going to be tested, observed, or whatever the guardian of this place had in mind for her, would be play out. Steeling herself for whatever lay behind that door she approached it finally, and with closed eyes opened it.

A blast of warm, sweetly scented air kissed her senses and she stepped forward as she opened her eyes. The room, white or perhaps it was silver, seemed to give off an unnatural glow at first. Then the glow vanished and things became more clear. The room’s walls were silver gray. The wood and furniture of the same mahogany variety that the desk was made of. Before going in to explore further she merely looked around. A set of open doors that led to a balcony was straight before her. The railing decorated with the same intricate lattice work that adorned the halls outside the inner chambers. A large bed with a silver comforter was to her left and a vanity to her right with two bed stands on either side. On the vanity were bottles and a vase with berries and seasonal greens next to it on a stand of its own.

The thing that stood out above all else was a large painting that dominated an entire section of wall, where a standing covered object was placed just in front. The painting was of the elf queen. Dress of gold and white flowing about her like a dream, and her hair about her shoulders in perfect placement.

 

Cassandra approached the painting and looked upon it for several minutes staring in to the vivid blue eyes of the elf-queen. No creature on the planet could ever be as lovely. Literally. No one. She finally turned reluctantly away, and peeked under the sheet to see a mirror framed in gold and silver. Then turned around to the bed and the stands behind her after looking over the vanity with its pretty glass bottles filled with liquids, silver hairbrush and hand mirror placed just so on top of its wooden surface.

 

The bed stands each had an oil lamp of sorts placed upon it. A jewelry box on one, a small silver trinket tray on the other. Something shiny caught her eye at the side of one of the bed stands and she went over to investigate. She had only taken two steps when she realized what it was.

 

Laying open beside the one on her right was the chest of jewels. Sparkling and glowing in the lantern light like stars. She came to stand in front of it, and bent down to get a closer look. She reached out to touch one, just to see if they were real, but something within herself warned her not to. Whether it was folktales from her father or just instinct, she pulled her hand back and simply looked at them. She had never seen anything like it in her life. Not just the whole, but each individual jewel seemed to glow with its own light. It was as if gazing into the depths of starlight itself.

 

A breeze touched her skin. It was warm and sweet again. She found this to be strange remembering that it was autumn, not spring or summer, and it drew her attention away from the glittering jewels in front of her, to the open doors of the balcony.

 

Once she approached it, she overlooked an exquisite indoor garden. The glass panels protecting it from the cold were like everything else, built around the natural elements around them. She couldn’t tell what each individual plant was, but it included both flowers and herbs. While the garden itself was kept neat and tidy, carefully controlled by whatever forces guarded this place, along the glass walls ivy crept, clinging to the frames. A fountain was built in the middle of the paved walkway, and she could hear on the wind sounds of voices and laughter, feeling the presence of not one but many of the beings below her. They didn’t seem particularly alarmed by her being there, though she was aware by the momentary peak of change in their mood that they knew she was, before going back to whatever they were invisibly doing.

They ignored her, which made her feel more at ease oddly enough, and she found herself sitting down feeling a peacefulness wash over her senses that she had not felt in years. Whether that was a spell in itself she wasn’t sure, but she welcomed it, and did not know how long she spent just sitting there, before she felt another more demanding, but familiar presence actually in the room with her.

 

She stood, turning reluctantly away from the garden below. She knew before she looked upon him that it would be the golden stag. He stared back at her with patient and kind eyes, then inclined his head towards the ceiling drawn her gaze to the sky visible through the ivy covered glass. It was night! Not just twilight, but _night_! Reality flooded back in, and she felt a panic arise. Was she trapped here now? Would she be allowed to leave?

 

There was only being in the room who could answer that, and it was the guardian standing before her, blocking the doorway. It seemed to sense her alarm and swinging its mighty head in a motion to follow him, he turned walked out of the room, through the study, gracefully navigating somehow though large in size to the hallway and going through the double doors. She followed him quickly keeping at least five steps behind him. He stopped for a moment in front of the vine covered door way, gave her a look and feeling that seemed to convey satisfaction, and for some reason, relief before going through the vines. A feat that had to be magically inclined, and betrayed that the stag was indeed a glamour that she was not allowed to see through because not a single vine tangled in his mighty antlers.

 

She wasn’t going to ask questions. She wasn’t even going to stop moving. She hurried down the ramp to the main floor and gathered up her things. The golden buck came to the main floor with her, and waited for her at the doorway.

Cassandra merely kept moving watching him carefully, and being sure to not make any sudden movements beyond what she was doing to get out of there. It wasn’t until she followed him quickly down the darkened path to the opening that led to the more public areas of the park, and the parking lots that she stopped along with him. Once he reached the edge of the trees his footfalls ceased and he went no further. She did take note that along the way she seen other deer with the same human-like eyes, glowing in the moonlight as they walked along. They would raise their heads and bow them slightly when they caught sight of the golden stag then go about their business whatever it was.

 

When he made it clear that this was as far as he was going to escort her, she worked up the bravery to ask, “Will I still be allowed to return to the lady’s rooms? I understand if I am not, and I have to keep my place in the hall that leads to it, but…”  She didn’t know how to finish her question and request. She dared not ask too much.

The eyes regarded her for a long moment, and merely nodded its head in a single bow. The idea of being allowed to return to even just the queen’s study made her feel more joy than she had in years. She couldn’t explain it. Perhaps it was the sense of peace she had been given when gazing at the gardens, but she was so happy that if the buck would let her she would embrace him. Knowing that not to be a good idea, she bowed to him in thanks.

 

He returned it, letting a wave of mirth pass over the winds around her. He moved aside from the path and let her pass. She didn’t look back until she was far enough from the edge of the forest that she could see her car just ahead. She knew she would not see him anymore, but she looked anyway. She seen no one, but could feel him and others with him, still there even when she got to her car and drove away.

 

* * *

 

“I seen that you had escorted the human back to her motorized carriage,” Thranduil commented when Legolas entered his study, and wordlessly sat down next to him. Thranduil placed a finger on the place of the blueprints of the palace he was looking over, and glanced at his son’s profile.

 

Legolas was staring into the embers of the fire ahead of them, his position was like the one he, himself, adopted when seated on his throne, or in a place where he had no paperwork or desk to keep him from being comfortable. The only thing that betrayed his tenseness were his set shoulders.

Leoglas didn’t answer him. He didn’t feel the need to. Thranduil put the papers he was looking at on the stand beside him and stared point-blankly at his son.

“I felt something in the air when she was in my mother’s bedroom, _ada_. Is it the same thing you may be feeling? A sense of change…? That things are going to happen now for better or for worse?”

Thranduil didn’t answer for a long moment, considering his words before he voiced them, “Yes, but I feel if we did not let this changes happen then it will be the worse for both of us in some fashion, my son.”

 

Legolas finally looked at him, “So, it frightens you too?”

 

Thranduil merely nodded before looking into the fire itself.

“Obviously she passed the test. We know she will not steal our treasures. She even respects, and I believe admires my mother now in some way, I believe. Do you intend to reveal more to her when she returns, or do you still wish to read her bit of fiction first?”

 

Thranduil stood, and went over to a table laid out with a flask of wine and goblets upon it, poured both himself and his son a large cupful, and returned to his seat after handing one of them to his son. Legolas sipped it gingerly, before looking back into the fire awaiting his father’s answer.

 

“I will read her tale first. I need to in order to know she is capable of what I want her to do.” He took a sip from his own goblet after this, and set it aside picking up his documents once again.

 

Legolas looked at him again for a moment, then went back to his own wine after asking, “Just what is it that you want her to do, father?”

 

Thranduil merely smiled in a coy way that told his son to stop asking questions, and went back to looking over the palace’s structure guidelines. Legolas caught that look, and went back to his cup relaxing into the chair next to his father. The two often sat in silence like this. Words were unnecessary. Only the company mattered.

 

* * *

 

When Cassandra got home she looked at her phone, and seen she had fourteen missed calls from Josh, two from Hannah, and one from Sherie. He must have went on a hunt-her-down binge. She was called him back quickly, and the whole conversation consisted of “Where the hell have you been?” “Are you fucking kidding me!” on his side when she told him she had gone to the tower in the park like she had been for the last couple of weeks and had lost track of time. He hung up on her after that.

It had been merely half an hour before she heard someone pounding on her door, as if ready to break it in. She knew before she answered it that it would be Josh.

 

He brushed past her wordlessly, and took a stance in the middle of the room, red faced and clearly still fuming. Being blond, it turned literally every part of his face and neck red, and he looked ready to kill her. She quickly shut the door, and stayed where she was. “You were at the park again? Just what exactly are you doing at the fucking park anyway until 10 o’clock at night?!”

 

Cassandra steeled herself for a confrontation and tried to adopt a sheepish, submissive stance, when something deeply buried inside her was just as pissed off as he apparently was at his behavior, “I’m sorry. I told you before what I am doing there. I just lost track of time again.”

 

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE IN AN ACCIDENT BITCH! Stop doing this to me! Why is your phone never on when you go there?” he screamed at her.

She stepped back in response to how booming his voice was in the room. On the wall behind her couch she heard the neighbor tapping and shouting, “Keep it down! Some of us are trying to sleep!”

 

Both rolled their eyes, and then continued with their stand-off. “It just goes dead for some reason Josh. I don’t know why.” Cassandra stated in a meek voice.

He shook his head, “It just goes dead? Why does that only happen to you? Mine always works when I go there!” He took a few steps forward, and stopped about 4 paces from her before he continued, “Are you fucking around with someone else? So help me God if you are it’s over woman.

Cassandra was stunned into silence. She didn’t answer him for several moments out of shock. Finally recovering she gave him a disgusted look as she answered, “What in the hell? I’m not cheating on you! Where in the world would you get such a crazy idea?!”

 

“Where do you _think_ I would get such an idea?!” he shot back.

Her head was shaking in disbelief, “Do you honestly believe I of all people would cheat? I know what your buddies say about me, and they’re right. You’re the only person who would even want me right now. So, how in the hell do you think I could even do it if I wanted to.” He just raised his eyebrows. Clearly that didn’t work. She decided to conclude with in a reasonable tone, “Look, I am not cheating on you. I never had. I never will. If you don’t believe me, then you can just call it quits now, and leave.”

 

This seemed to shock him into listening to her. She had never told him to leave before. She had never told him to break up. She had never given any ultimatums before in any form. That was his forte. His jaw worked as a flood of different facial expressions crossed his face.

 

“Fine,” he said, before the redness left his face, and he turned away taking off his coat, and laying it across the couch. “Just tell me why you write there. I’m trying to understand it.”

For several moments she didn’t answer. She couldn’t find the right one. She also knew there was no way in hell that she could tell him about what happened to her tonight when she was there.

 

“I can’t explain it really. I just feel inspired there more than anywhere else right now. That’s all. You know how important my writing is to me. I just, you know, _need_ to be there right now to do it.”

 

“That’s really all there is to it?” Josh asked, his voice ten times more calm than it had been before.

 

Cassandra nodded, forcing a smile on her face.

 

He closed his eyes and crossed the room and took her into his arms, tightly hugging her. “Will you just do me a favor and let me know when you go there? I know you go every day, and if your phone’s signal really is cutting off there, then I’ll know you’re safe and not dead in a ditch somewhere.”

She nodded into his chest, “Okay.”

 He pulled back and looked her up and down, “And never tell me that no one else wants to fuck you again. I know better.”

 

“Just kiss and go to your room and fuck him so I can get some sleep already!” they heard their neighbor yell through the wall next door.

Both laughed at this.

“You have got to move a better apartment,” Josh replied as he plopped down on the sofa.

 

* * *

 

 

How long had it been since he truly walked among these halls? Thranduil thought to himself as he slowly stepped from each mural in the Hall of Memories. He regarded one In turn for long minutes before finally stopping at the one of their wedding.

 

He let out a sad chuckle at the thought of how much trouble those gems would eventually cause them, then gazed longingly at his wife’s face. Even Arwen did not shine with as much beauty as Lisilelena had that day. He remembered how nervous he had been. He remembered the pride his mother took in both of them that day. He remembered even his own father not being able to contain his own emotions that day. Legolas would come many, many centuries later. How he had loved her and his child. How she had loved both of them. How he still loved them both.

 

He went to the next one thinking of the day Legolas was born. He had wanted that mural painted on the wall as well, but instead the artist decided upon a different way to let him remember that. He did not look upon the last two on purpose. His memories tortured him enough that he did not need to see them visually re-represented before his eyes.

 

Instead he opened the double wooden doors to the study and entered. He looked around briefly, noting everything was in the very place it had left it in when she had…

 

He swallowed down the lump that was forming in his throat, closing his eyes, and moved forward to the bedroom. The bed was the first thing he seen, taken out of his melancholy for a moment when a memory, sensual and pleasant shot through his mind, remembering the many nights they had spent there, and the sound of her voice whispering his name after they had finished with their nightly pleasures. He stepped towards it and sat down averting his gaze for as long as possible from the painting that would assault his senses if he looked ahead of him and up. Instead he regarded the balcony that overlooked the garden. His people had learned to till the earth long ago, and kept their own stores so that they would not have to interact with the humans any more than necessary.

 

He had people to take care of that aspect of their lives. The children of men and the children of elves could not avoid one another completely. The rangers and game wardens were aware of their presence just not of what they were. They put on a glamour when they had to go out in the open and speak to these individuals. The ones they spoke with were only aware that they lived somewhere in the forest. Where, they would never find, so therefore, could never find a way to try and remove them. He had resolved to using faerie tricks when necessary to keep them from his palace, and the secrets of his home.

 

Now, a human was being let in his halls, and with his blessing. He did not question if he was making the right decision. He knew he was. His intuition told him so, and his people rarely judged such things wrongly.

Finally, he turned his head to look upon the grand painting of his beloved queen. It did her no justice. No painting could. But the eyes were perfect. Knowing he would not receive a response he spoke aloud, “This wheel of fate is making me nervous my love. Where it will stop I know not, nor what it will mean. I can only hope it will help not only me but our son in the end. It is not a battle I am going to be fighting this time, but my own mind. I can only pray for the strength it will take to do this for not only your memory, but our son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, this story is progressing faster than you think, and all of this will make sense very soon as to why I have written it.


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